Chapter 124. A Still Target is Better
Succubi Chapter 124. A Still Target is Better
The entire platform was quiet. Tense.
Even the flickering neon signs above us looked like they were holding their breath.
The referee, bless that poor soul, finally stepped up, voice cracking through the enchanted mic like he’d just remembered he had a job.
“Uh—match over! Winner… Hexblade, aka Deathline!”
Cheers broke out. Mostly from the bloodthirsty side of the crowd. The ones who paid extra for ringside splatter. You could always tell. They wore bone jewelry and spiked boots and looked like they hadn’t showered since the last war.
But none of us clapped.
Felix was down. His rune? Gone. Cracked like a cheap plate. He was still breathing, though. But unharmed. No blood seen. Someone was already helping him off the field.
Kyra didn’t even look winded. Just annoyed she didn’t get more hits in. The Spirit Channeler guy looked like someone had unplugged his soul. His body slumped forward mid-cough like he wasn’t sure what day it was. Yeah, Kyra definitely won that round. Not just physically, but also mentally.
But the one we couldn’t take our eyes off?
Adrian.
Still kneeling, one hand gripping his side. Blood on his tunic. The rune around his neck still glowing faintly.
Barely.
And the Hexblade? Still standing in front of him.
His blade? Ready.
It wasn’t for the rune anymore.
It was for Adrian.
Until finally, Callahan exhaled through his nose.
“So what?” he said, tone lazy but loaded. “I never hoped they’d win.”
Callahan’s voice had dropped, but I could feel the tension in the way he stood. The angle of his hand. One flick and that blade would be snapped in half or reversed right into the guy’s gut. Probably both. But he didn’t move.
The Hexblade didn’t flinch.
That was the worst part.
They just… stared.
My brows lifted.
Callahan shrugged one shoulder, stepping slightly to the side, like this was a lecture and not a live murder.
“I wanted them to experience what underground fighting is. The real thing. But not like this,” he said. “Not a deathmatch.”
The Hexblade, Deathline, whatever, tilted his head. His blade lowered slightly. Just slightly.
“Shame,” he muttered. “Cause I don’t do anything half-assed. And that guy,” he gestured with his sword toward Adrian, “put his rune on his neck.”
Callahan’s jaw ticked. “Then why stab his chest?”
Deathline smirked.
“Because he moved.”
He raised a brow, like it was obvious.
“A still target is better. You know what I mean… I need him to stay still.”
Oh yeah.
This guy was twisted.
I hated that I kind of understood what he meant.
Callahan’s expression darkened. His hands curled into fists at his side. But before he could say anything, the necromancer beside me let out a whistle.
“That guy,” he said, nudging me with his elbow, “he’s the hardest one to deal with among us. Not because he’s strong.”
I squinted. “Then why?”
“Because he can’t take a loss.”
Figures.
I tched and shadow-stepped.
My body blinked out in a pulse of black mist and reappeared next to Adrian in a heartbeat. He looked up at me, still a little pale, blood drying on his cheek.
“Hey,” he rasped, “you are alive,” he joked.
I slapped my hand on his shoulder and let the dark energy surge through me.
[Skill Activated Dark Healing]
The warmth of void flowed from my fingers, sinking into his wounds, reknitting skin, easing pain, patching the damage. Not perfect, but better.
I didn’t smile.
“Shut up,” I muttered. “You almost died, you idiot. That stupid rune shouldn’t have been on your neck.”
He winced but grinned. “Well, at least I’m still alive.”
“Barely,” I said.
He laughed like he wasn’t nearly turned into a kebab.
Then, behind us, a voice cut in.
“You could heal?”
It was Deathline again.
I turned slowly. My glare met his. And I didn’t hide it. I let every ounce of displeasure and hostility simmer right there in my eyes.
He stepped forward once, his boots heavy on the metal platform. His blade was down now, but his interest wasn’t. His gaze flicked between my hand on Adrian’s shoulder and the fading aura of my skill.
“I saw your attack,” he said. “The shadow thing. And the orbs.”
My jaw tightened.
“Your movements are too fast for a regular caster. Your armor? That’s Knight-grade. And now healing?”
I didn’t answer.
“Your class,” he said slowly, “what even are you?”
I opened my mouth.
Callahan appeared between us in half a blink.
He didn’t even move. Just… existed there. Like a wall. Like a warning.
“Let’s cut the conversation here,” he said calmly.
His eyes didn’t blink. “My minions need to rest.”
Adrian groaned softly. “There he goes again…”
“Minions?” I muttered under my breath.
He was seriously still calling us that?
Fine. Whatever.
I was too tired to argue.
Especially since we now had to deal with hauling Adrian out of here without him collapsing again.
Felix was being carried off by a medic golem now, and Kyra was already halfway to the exit, sipping water like she just left yoga class.
But the tension still hadn’t fully faded.
Deathline didn’t press. Just watched. Observed.
Then, slowly, he turned and walked away. No salute. No bow. No wave.
Just gone.
The crowd kept cheering, but it was hollow now. I wasn’t hearing the noise.
I was hearing my system.
[New skill: Infernal Barrier.]
Yeah.
That was new.
That was also terrifying.
That skill showed up out of nowhere.
I exhaled and looked down at Adrian.
He was smiling faintly, even with his arm slung around my shoulder.
“You’re not carrying me bridal style, just so you know,” he muttered.
“Not even planning to,” I said.
We limped toward the exit.
Behind us, Callahan stayed behind, probably to sweet-talk the referee council or whatever those robe guys were.
Adrian coughed once. “You think I looked cool?”
“No,” I said.
“You think Kyra did?”
“Obviously.”
He huffed. “Felix?”
“He almost got vaporized.”
“Fair.”
We reached the hallway. The cold hit like a welcome slap. The arena lights dimmed behind us. My body still buzzed with leftover mana. My hand? Still tingled from the healing.
Adrian let out a long breath.
“I’m never doing that again,” he said.
I nodded.
“Yeah. Until next week.”
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